Thursday, April 28, 2011

Into the wind...

Isaac and I head outside, our feet shod in flip-flops.  He is looking down and trying to walk.  The novelty of his shoes and foot-freedom is distracting.  I don't blame him.  This has been a long time coming. 

"Mommy, it smells good!"  He takes a deep breath, and so do I.  We exaggerate a deep inhale and release with a big sigh, throwing our arms wide.  There is nothing like filling your lungs with fresh air.  "Do you want to ride your scooter and go for a walk?"  I ask him (already knowing the answer...)  "YEEEEESSSS!!  I LOVE going for a walk, Mom!"  Like a bullet shot, he's in the garage retrieving the red and silver scooter that used to belong to Ethan.  It is Isaac's favorite thing to do outside.  Ride....and ride some more. 

We head off down the sidewalk.  There are buds bursting on the dogwoods down our street.  Wind is rippling the neighbors' grassy lawns.  It's the only time of year when dirt smells delectable; moist, semi-sweet, and alive.  Isaac is more than alive...he's flying.  Literally, he's flying down the sidewalk and around the corner.  I jog to catch up. 

We see some storm clouds ahead and decide to turn around.  "Why are we going backwards, Mommy?"  I point to the sky and tell him about the rain.  He looks at it me as if to say, "So what?" 

Heading the opposite way means more wind.  The air pushes at us, making us squint our eyes and take deep, short breaths.  Isaac's creamy light brown hair is rippling like the grass.  "Mommy, it's windy!"  I hear a loud laugh as he speeds up and yells, "WHEEEEEEE!"  I think, this must be what a bird would say if she could talk.  If we could hear them zipping through the sky, there would be a constant roar of "WHEEE'S." Isaac, my little bird. 

Small droplets fall as we arrive.  Into the wind we went, and against the wind we pushed.  And we'll keep pushing and flying.  As far and as high as we can go. 

Saturday, April 9, 2011

Shake your groove thang, baby

"Do it like this, Isaac!"  Ethan is trying to explain to his brother how to shake his hips.  Through giggles and guffaws, the two shake their money makers...or at least Isaac tries to.  Dan and I sit on the couch, stifling laughs as we acknowledge simultaneously the obvious:  Isaac cannot move his bottom half in a different direction than the top. 

I know movement isn't always easy for Isaac.  When we have spontaneous dance parties in the kitchen, I encourage Isaac to dance.  It helps him with his spatial awareness--knowing where your arms and legs and feet go and how they move is often something we take for granted.  He stands still and makes strange faces instead.  Once in awhile he'll move, mostly making abrupt drops to the floor and flapping his arms.  It's quite avant-garde.  
I love that even though this "getting down" stuff is hard for Isaac, he still tries.  He laughs at himself, and he laughs at his brother.  He is genuinely enjoying the embarrassment.  He isn't taking himself too seriously:  a lesson I need to remember now and again. 

How Isaac roles, circa, 2008
Not trying is overrated.  Giving it your all, even if you look silly or don't get it right the first time--now THAT'S how to live. 

Shake your groove thang, baby boy.